For me, the ransom of my bold attempt
Shall be this cold corpse on the earth's cold face;
But if I thrive, the gain of my attempt
The least of you shall share his part thereof.
Sound, drums and trumpets, boldly and cheerfully;
God, and Saint George! Richmond and victory!
[Exeunt.

Re-enter King RICHARD, RATCLIFF, Attendants, and Forces.

K. Rich. What said Northumberland, as touching Richmond?

Rat. That he was never trained up in arms.
K. Rich. He said the truth: And what said Surrey

then?

Rat. He smil'd and said, the better for our purpose. K. Rich. He was i'the right; and so, indeed, it is. [Clock strikes. Tell the clock there.-Give me a calendar. Who saw the sun to-day?

Rat.

Not I, my lord.

K. Rich. Then he disdains to shine; for, by the

book,

He should have brav'd the east an hour ago;

A black day will it be to somebody,

Ratcliff

Rat. My lord?

K. Rich. The sun will not be seen to-day; The sky doth frown and lour upon our army. I would, these dewy tears were from the ground, Not shine to-day! Why, what is that to me,

the ransom of my bold attempt -] The fine paid by me in atonement for my rashness shall be my dead corse.

7 God, and Saint George!] Saint George was the common cry of the English soldiers when they charged the enemy.

8

bray'd the east-] i. e. made it splendid.

More than to Richmond? for the self-same heaven, That frowns on me, looks sadly upon him.

Enter NORFolk.

Nor. Arm, arm, my lord; the foe vaunts in the field.

K. Rich. Come, bustle, bustle;-Caparison my horse ;

Call up lord Stanley, bid him bring his power:
I will lead forth my soldiers to the plain,
And thus my battle shall be ordered.

My forward shall be drawn out all in length,
Consisting equally of horse and foot;

Our archers shall be placed in the midst:
John duke of Norfolk, Thomas Earl of Surrey,
Shall have the leading of this foot and horse.
They thus directed, we ourself will follow

In the main battle; whose puissance on either side
Shall be well winged with our chiefest horse.
This, and saint George to boot!-What think'st
thou, Norfolk ?

Nor. A good direction, warlike sovereign.
This found I in my tent this morning.

[Giving a Scrawl. K, Rich. Jocky of Norfolk, be not too bold,

[Reads. For Dickon' thymaster is bought and sold.

A thing devised by the enemy.

Go, gentlemen, every man unto his charge:
Let not our babbling dreams affright our souls;
Conscience is but a word that cowards use,
Devis'd at first to keep the strong in awe;

Our strong arms be our conscience, swords our law.

9 This, and Saint George to boot !] To boot is to help.

Dickon thy master, &c.] Dickon is the ancient familia rization of Richard. In the words-bought and sold, there is somewhat proverbial,

March on, join bravely, let us to't pell-mell;
If not to heaven, then hand in hand to hell..

What shall I say more than I have infer'd?
Remember whom you are to cope withal;-
A sort of vagabonds,2 rascals, and run-aways,
A scum of Bretagnes, and base lackey peasants,
Whom their o'er-cloy'd country vomits forth
To desperate ventures and assur'd destruction.
You sleeping safe, they bring you to unrest;
You having lands, and bless'd with beauteous wives,
They would restrain the one, distain the other.
And who doth lead them, but a paltry fellow,
Long kept in Bretagne at our mother's cost?
A milk-sop, one that never in his life
Felt so much cold as over shoes in snow?
Let's whip these stragglers o'er the seas again;
Lash hence these over-weening rags of France,
These famish'd beggars, weary of their lives;
Who, but for dreaming on this fond exploit,
For want of means, poor rats, had hang'd themselves:
If we be conquer'd, let men conquer us,

And not these bastard Bretagnes, whom our fathers
Have in their own land beaten, bobb'd, and thump'd,
And, on record, left them the heirs of shame.
Shall these enjoy our lands? lie with our wives?
Ravish our daughters?-Hark, I hear their drum.
[Drum afar off.

Fight, gentlemen of England! fight, bold yeomen!
Draw, archers, draw your arrows to the head!
Spur your proud horses hard, and ride in blood;
Amaze the welkin with your broken staves!3-

A sort of vagabonds,] i. e. a company, a collection. 3 Amaze the welkin with your broken staves!] That is, fright the skies with the shivers of your lances. JOHNSON.

Enter a Messenger.

What says lord Stanley? will he bring his power?
Mess. My lord, he doth deny to come.

K. Rich. Off instantly with his son George's head. Nor. My lord, the enemy is pass'd the marsh; After the battle let George Stanley die.

K. Rich. A thousand hearts are great within my
bosom:

Advance our standards, set upon our foes;
Our ancient word of courage, fair Saint George,
Inspire us with the spleen of fiery dragons!
Upon them! Victory sits on our helms.[Exeunt.
yboold zim to a bag sdr mov

SCENE IV.

Another Part of the Field.

Alarum: Excursions. Enter NORFOLK, and Forces; to him CATESBY.

Cate. Rescue, my lord of Norfolk, rescue, rescue! The king enacts more wonders than a man,

Daring an opposite to every danger;

His horse is slain, and all on foot he fights,
Seeking for Richmond in the throat of death:
Rescue, fair lord, or else the day is lost!

Alarum. Enter King RICHARD.

K. Rich. A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse!

Cate. Withdraw, my lord, I'll help you to a horse.

K. Rich. Slave, I have set my life upon a cast, And I will stand the hazard of the die:

I think, there be six Richmonds in the field;

Five have I slain to-day, instead of him :A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse! [Exeunt.

Alarums. Enter King RICHARD and RICHMOND; and exeunt, fighting. Retreat, and flourish. Then enter RICHMOND, STANLEY, bearing the Crown, with divers other Lords, and Forces. Richm. God, and your arms, be prais'd, victorious friends;

The day is ours, the bloody dog is dead.

Stan. Courageous Richmond, well hast thou acquit thee!

Lo, here, this long-usurped royalty,
From the dead temples of this bloody wretch
Have I pluck'd off, to grace thy brows withal;
Wear it, enjoy it, and make much of it.

Richm. Great God of heaven, say, amen, to all!But, tell me first, is young George Stanley living? Stan. He is, my lord, and safe in Leicester town; Whither, if it please you, we may now withdraw us. Richm. What men of name are slain on either side?

Stan. John duke of Norfolk, Walter lord Ferrers, Sir Robert Brakenbury, and sir William Brandon. Richm. Inter their bodies as becomes their births. Proclaim a pardon to the soldiers fled,

That in submission will return to us;

And then, as we have ta'en the sacrament,
We will unite the white rose with the red :-
Smile heaven upon this fair conjunction,
That long hath frown'd upon their enmity!—
What traitor hears me, and says not,-amen?
England hath long been mad, and scarr'd herself;
The brother blindly shed the brother's blood,
The father rashly slaughter'd his own son,
The son, compell'd, been butcher to the sire;